Napoleon Was Defeated at Mont-Saint-Jean
by em.matheson
Summary: In which everyone behaves like adults and everything is disgustingly happy.
1. Chapter 1

I find myself writing unpopular storylines with unpopular characters. Perhaps it's an effort to smooth the jagged edges of what's broken? More likely, I'm a glutton for punishment. Either way, I'm an expert at rewritten history.

* * *

It wasn't tense, or stressful, nor forced. It simply was and had been for a long time. He could sense it over dinner, knew that it hung like a dark cloud over their dining room table. He could sense it over washing the dishes, knew it permeated the air. He could sense it, and he knew everyone else could too. After the last parent teacher conference, he'd received an email from the girls' teacher asking to clarify if everything was alright in the home. Divorce, it had read. _Stability_ , it had questioned between the written lines. Was everything ok?

* * *

It was, and it wasn't.

* * *

He'd been having lunch alone last week, a Tuesday if he remembered correctly, catching up on one of the many books he'd been meaning to read when the chair across from him had suddenly scrapped against the tile. His head jerked up, one fright too many had made him a jumpy man, and there was the source of so many of those frights grinning at him like dinner.

"Hello, Ric." Was it possible for Klaus not to look terrifying when he smiled? Or did he always have that glint in his eyes, further exaggerated by predator's teeth? Ric had found out that he was grinding his teeth in his sleep at his last dentist appointment, had to get a mouthguard and everything. Stress, the dentist had told him, molding the thin plastic over his worn and tired teeth. His dentist didn't know what stress was. Did Klaus grind his teeth at night over stress? Did mouthguards even help vampires?

"Klaus, what are you doing here?" This was tense. This was stressful and forced. Klaus, unsurprisingly, was none of those things. He pulled out the chair on the other side of the first, and sank into that one, unfurling his limbs like this was a goddamned vacation for him.

"I'm here to talk with you, if that's alright?" Ric set his book down, not entirely pleased to give up a chunk of his time. He had a really hard time with Klaus, harder than anyone else he almost suspected. He was a natural born historian, and to sit across the table from someone who had lived a thousand years in a thousand places, it was like leaving a hit of heroin next to an addict who knew he would die taking it.

"That depends on what you want to talk about." Movement from the aisle distracted both men, a tell tale sign of those with too many secrets, but it was a little girl with dark blonde hair who sat in the chair beside Klaus, the one with his arm draped possessively over the back. She looked expectantly at Klaus, her mouth already turned down into an eternal pout and her brows drawn. Alaric immediately thinks that it's a good thing she'll become whatever she is one day, before she gets a crease between her eyes. (If he had said anything out loud, the little girl would have told him exactly where he could put his opinion because her Daddy had told her that it wasn't her responsibility to be pretty if she didn't want to be.)

"Hope, this is Alaric, one of Caroline's friends," Klaus makes a gesture toward him, and Hope's eyes follow her father's hand. If Klaus' constant look was edging on psychotic with a dash of sass and sarcasm, Hope's was calculating, uncompromising, and unwavering. They were an unnerving pair, and had an alarming amount of potential to be a supernatural Bonnie and Clyde without the romance. Hope, whom he knows is eight years old, gives him a solemn nod and picks up his book, marking his page but starting from the beginning herself.

"So, you wanted to talk?" His voice squeaks at the end, still staring at Hope leafing through the pages of Waterloo. Klaus grins his predator's grin and Hope raises an assessing eyebrow at something in the book.

"Yes, I was hoping to speak about Caroline. I understand that things are stilted between the two of you, and that it might be affecting your daughters." Alaric nods and Hope turns the page. "I wondered if we might speak to your side of the situation." Well, this was surprising. For a man that did what he wanted, Alaric had honestly never expected much from him in the way of consideration. Despite the consideration having a goal, it was still...a gesture, at least.

"Right, I uh…" Ric trails off, not having prepared a speech or even a culmination of events to express at this exact moment. "It's always been a little weird, obviously this didn't start as a romantic relationship that resulted in children, or even a physical relationship that resulted in children. But we tried to form a family unit, to hold that together while the girls were young so they might have some stability." He pauses to word his next statement carefully.

"No offence, but things started falling apart when you two first started dating and became progressively worse the more serious you got. She's slept over at your place every night during the past month and a half, so she's only at the house for dinner and bedtime. It does put a strain on things, and it's not a subtle strain," Alaric finally finished, pausing to take a sip of his sweet tea. He might die today, might actually forever die.

"She and I had been seeing each other regularly for nearly six months when we had, what I imagine for both of us, a very illuminating conversation," Klaus begins slowly, keeping his arm around the back of his daughter's chair, but curling in slightly as if he was insecure about the topic. "We discussed love, and how it had to be a choice and a feeling," Alaric doesn't know what to say to that piece of insight. "Of how relationships change over time and we must adapt to these changes should we want the relationship to continue, but that the choice must be made by both parties."

"You think she and I should discuss the future of our arrangement?" Alaric guessed. The other man nodded slowly, clearly weighing his purpose. There was a lull in the conversation, a minute to pause and consider. Alaric knows that Klaus will soon become a fixture in their lives, and he's not sure what path that will lead him and his daughters down. On one hand, they will not want for power, wealth, or security should they be taken under the Mikaelson's wing, but on the other, the ancient family had too many enemies to ever truly be safe. He makes no move to continue, so Klaus does.

"I've found that children are much more insightful that I had previously given them credit for," Alaric had no doubts about that watching Hope digest a complicated war book detailing battle plans and theories. Honestly, given who her father was she shouldn't be reading anything about military tactics. "I've never had to read something to understand someone, parenting books are still a bit of a mystery to me," Klaus admits, showing a rare glimpse of humility, "but I've come to understand that children know when things aren't right and that despite what many parents seem to think, children do well when their parents separate in a mature manner. That they want to see us happy."

Well, then. He certainly hadn't seen any of this coming. They had conversed for about twenty more minutes on the subject before Hope had set the book down, back in the spot where Alaric had first set it down, and told her father that she wanted her bribe for being quiet and patient. She also told him that she'd like to visit Mont Saint-Jean, since that was where the battle of Waterloo had actually been fought. Klaus had acquiesced to someday, given Alaric a look that said 'what are you going to do?', and the two had gone off as quickly as they had come.

* * *

He would spend the next week or so digesting the conversation and weighing his options. Getting to pick Klaus' brain on historical events was not one of those options, no matter how badly he wanted to have the opportunity. At the end of every argument played out in his head, and playing every devil's advocate he could dream up, he still found that Klaus had brought up some very valid points that were probably worth exploring.

And the man wasn't wrong. He paid more attention to the demeanor of his daughters in the following days, analyzed their reactions, their attitudes. He even took notes, but made sure to keep them to his phone so Caroline wouldn't see the number of question marks he'd typed. The girls picked up on Caroline's mood when she went to meet a 'friend' for dinner on Saturday, laughing and shrieking. It had been more than nothing, the mood that night, it had been wonderful and the four of them had gone to bed drunk on glee, albeit in separate houses. And it was good.

This dinner had been particularly quiet. It wasn't tense, or stressful, nor forced. It just was, and Alaric couldn't take it any longer. So while Caroline put the girls to bed and prepared to leave for the night, Alaric sat in the plush chair that faced the front door and he thought. He thought about the words he'd say to make this easier, the words they'd use to find balance. He thought about the words that would set them all free.

"Oh!" Caroline let out a soft gasp, handbag flung over her shoulder and a hand over her heart, "I wasn't expecting you to be sitting right there." He could see the smile drop from her face, though she still looked excited. Alaric wondered what it'd be like to have a woman's face look like that for him.

"Caroline, we need to talk." God, even he felt sick to his stomach saying those words. He could tell they had the same reaction on her when her face dropped. "It's nothing bad, just the Klaus and I were talking," shit, he hadn't meant to say that…

"Excuse me? You and _Klaus_ were talking? Is this a weird dream or an alternate dimension where everything is fifty shades of hell no?" Her hands are on her hips, handbag dropped unceremoniously at her side. He stumbles over his words and fumbles for the next ones.

"You aren't happy and neither am I." He's trying to recover quickly from his first statement and steer the conversation back on topic, "we're not unhappy, but we're not happy and the girls know it. Honestly, the only people we're really hurting here are ourselves. I'm not going to live forever, and you've done more for me than anyone, believe me when I say that I can't thank you enough for that, but we will never love each other. And you will live forever Caroline, or at least as close to it as possible, but you've had a crappy time of it for years and you really deserve to not have to put your life for hold for me.

"Klaus and I had a discussion, a long and alarmingly civil conversation about how we were going to handle this for the next twenty years. I guess the two of you had spoken about it, but he wanted to know my view of it," he chose not to bring up his doubts about Klaus' true intentions, "but what he did bring up was the ability for relationships to adapt to time and the choices we make for them to do so, with the biggest factor of both of those things being communication." He pauses, mostly for dramatic effect, but if anyone asked, it was to take a human breath. "We aren't communicating, Caroline."

"You're right, we aren't very good about that," she admits quietly, moving into the living room to sit on the edge of the couch. He hadn't held back anything during the five minutes he had just spoken for, but she respected that he was considering her feelings on the matter and that her super old boyfriend had actually handled the situation like an adult. "So, let me start and maybe we can clear a few things from the air." She pauses to take a deep breath, "my relationship with Klaus clearly isn't going anywhere anytime soon, but I have been staying over there a lot lately. With me leaving for work before the girls got up, I didn't think it mattered too much and it's become the only time I really get with Klaus. But I guess I could start trying to spend half my nights here…" She continues speaking, thinking out loud really, pondering ideas and trying to predict the lasting effects over the next five years.

Alaric can see the wheels turning too quickly in Caroline's mind to get a word in edgewise. They really were terrible at communication. "Caroline," he waits but she's still counting things off on her fingers, "Caroline," he repeats more firmly. She looks at him, clearly rattled to be pulled from her five year plan.

"Caroline," Alaric repeats more softly. "You don't have to live here if you don't want to, and," he speaks over her when she moves to protest, "I know that you want to be with the girls, but they shouldn't affect your decision because we can work that out. We can come up with a split custody type of arrangement."

"I didn't think you'd want them around Klaus and his family," she admits with a shrug. Well, he can't deny her thinking there, or the fact that it was 100 percent true. But he might be beginning to see the light.

"Klaus is a part of your life, Caroline, and he's going to be for a very long time. My wanting to keep the girls out of his affairs it a bit of a moot point due to that, but that's nothing you should feel guilty for. Kids do perfectly fine in split households, I can't believe I'm about to quote your boyfriend here, but they want to see us happy." Caroline wrinkles her nose at the boyfriend part, but nods in agreement. "Honestly, Caroline, I'm your high school English teacher and guardian of your comatose friend. This is not a conventional relationship and is so weird that I can't even wrap my head around it most days."

"We can work out a schedule?" Good god, he can see the excel spreadsheet scrolling through her mind already, color coded and everything. He nods though, accepts a hug from his now ex-whatever the hell they were calling themselves before, and sends her off to her boyfriend's house. Alaric lets out a long sigh of relief and signs up for an online dating site because thank god, he can date again.

* * *

They manage to still have dinner as a family most nights, sometimes at his place, and sometimes at Klaus', but nearly always with the whole kit and caboodle. Alaric discovers that he's terrified of Kol, intimidated by Elijah, has an odd liking for Rebekah, but really likes Freya. His daughters think that the Mikaelsons are to epitome of fun, he still isn't sure he approves of that theory, but he lives with it. Hope warms up eventually, she's equally ridiculous as her family, but actually rational which is somewhat mind boggling to him.

But best of all, Klaus answers any and all questions about history with minimal threats of murder.


	2. Chapter 2

More unsavory tales from the so far canon crossover.

* * *

When Klaus picks up the phone on that random October day, he feels oddly sick. He is sure Caroline is alright, could hear Hope's murmurs in the background, but the screaming and sobbing of Caroline's daughters left him on edge. She'd asked him to call an ambulance, "tell them not to hurry, he's already dead." She took it upon herself to call Alaric's girlfriend.

He'd never liked the man though he'd worked hard to entertain his less dense line of questions. He found Alaric and Caroline's … connection, it was the only word his mind would consider, revolting, but he could see that the two were and would only ever be friends. Not even good friends at that, and so he tolerated Alaric's relationship with his family. Hope enjoyed discussing historical events with the man, and while Klaus did not, Caroline liked the fact that he was trying.

And that was good enough reason for him.

So when Caroline calls and tells him they found Alaric cold on the kitchen floor, he isn't sad, or troubled, nor terribly moved. But he does feel a little sick so he runs the gap between the houses, stopping only to step out of the trees. The back door is open, and he sees his daughter waiting patiently for him, leaning against the door and keeping a steady eye on his approaching figure.

Caroline had taken to dragging Hope with her to run errands, an attempt to work on the girl's social skills now that she wasn't in school. With her old black boots and old band shirt, which he made a mental note to take back from her, she looked nothing like the type of people Caroline interacted with and nothing like a girl that anyone would want to interact with. Klaus doubted that Caroline could make much progress with Hope, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Does this mean we can finally leave Texas?" Hope asks, pushing her shoulder off the door frame when he arrives. "It's hot and I tire of the Alamo." No, Klaus knew, Caroline wouldn't ever teach his daughter how to properly socialize with the masses.

"Have a little tact, Hope, the man just died." She cocks her head at him, confused by his reprimand, but shifts to let him pass through the doorway. Caroline is sitting in the entryway, elbows on her knees and hands pressed to cover her face.

"Well, yes, that's tragic and all but it doesn't preclude us from planning for the future," she continues to argue behind his back, and he swears he can feel the beginning of a headache coming on. He's fairly certain that vampires, let alone hybrids, can't get headaches, but if it were to happen his child would be involved, he had no doubt. Loophole children always created more annoying loopholes, he and Caroline were experts on that topic.

The girls, Caroline would tell him from behind her hands, had arrived home from school and found their father. They'd attempted some risky magic and by the time she and Hope had arrived, Alaric was wielding a standing lamp like a weapon and a putrid shade of green. Caroline had stood stock still while Alaric waved the damn thing at Lizzy and Josie. Hope, not one for emotion, had taken his head off with a silver serving tray.

From day one, Caroline had no doubt the Hope was Klaus' child, and though she'd always lacked his charm, she was a quick thinker and not terribly sentimental. Caroline, normally excellent in a crisis, was not so good when the crisis involved family and death. Seeing the hesitation on her step mother's face had caused Hope to spring into action. A quick spell and she'd righted the situation while her stepsisters held each other on the couch and Caroline stood still as a statue in the kitchen.

"Call Dad and Alaric's girlfriend," Hope had pressed her cell phone into Caroline's hands, snapping her out of her trance. Caroline nodded and Hope had set off to clean up the mess that zombie Alaric had left. "Inconsiderate in life and even more so in death," she'd muttered, sweeping up glass.

Caroline was just glad that she'd had the girl with her. Lizzy and Josie were still attending school while Klaus lied to the state about Hope's homeschool education. Caroline had almost put her foot down at that but Klaus had told her simply and without room for argument, "if she wants to learn something, she'll figure it out. Headstrong children like her don't learn when you're shoving information down their throats."

* * *

 _Three Years Earlier_

Klaus had pulled Hope from the school the girls attended when they had diagnosed her with autistic spectrum disorder at age 14. He had barely restrained himself from tearing out the throat of the condescending school psychologist. Caroline had dug her nails into his hand under the desk not wanting to clean up after him. Hope had frowned at the Pantone color cards she was sorting, a gift from her father.

"She shows trouble communicating and relating with her peers, lacks any understanding of figurative language and inference, and displays numerous compulsive behaviors. It's troubling that this hasn't been diagnosed earlier, but I'd recommend she start in the special learning program our school offers," the woman rattles off, peering at his daughter over a thick folder.

Hope had landed herself in school counseling when she broke a boy's tibia for making a lewd comment about Lizzy. They'd just barely managed to pass it off as an accident. Well, Caroline had _convinced_ the school that Hope was standing up for her sister and the resulting break was an accident. Klaus had smiled proudly and given her an affectionate tap on the chin. Hope had shown a complete lack of remorse, or any emotion really, at the whole event and had been promptly sent to the psychologist.

"She's doing well in her classes, if I'm not mistaken, so I fail to see the problem," Klaus points out. Caroline's nails dig harder. Hope mutters another Pantone color code under her breath.

"She's only memorizing the answers and parroting them back. That isn't learning," the woman primly informs him as if he didn't know what learning was. He'd be impressed by her gall if she wasn't spewing complete and utter bullshit.

"I was under the impression that memorization was what all students did in this mockery of an educational system." Klaus sits back in his chair with a smug grin and levies an eyebrow at the sputtering school psychologist. "Do you have anything to add, Hope?" Oh, Caroline knew, this wasn't headed anywhere good.

"Our curriculum places Romeo and Juliet higher than Hamlet," Hope hums mostly to herself and Caroline rolls her eyes. The girl could play her father like a fiddle. Klaus slams his hands down on the arms of the chair, red moons from Caroline's nails still healing. The resounding crack of the wood breaking makes the psychologist jump.

"That's it, I'll not have my daughter schooled by ignorant fear mongers. Romeo and Juliet, honestly," he jumps up, "as if these children need more ridiculous notions about romance. And your special learning programs," he practically spit, "do you think I don't know how underfunded and ill staffed those are?" Hope gives the trembling woman a toothy grin, and follows her ranting father through the front office.

Caroline pauses, almost tempted to apologize for the destruction the two had left in their wake as her Southern manners insisted, but recalling the woman's condescending tone she can't find it in her to say anything. She collects the cards Hope had been flipping through and makes her way after them.

"Actually," she pokes her head back into the room, "I'll be removing my other two daughters from the school as well." There, solidarity.

By the time she gets to the car, Hope is picking up a pile of discarded clothing and putting it in the backseat. She doesn't seem particularly troubled, but Caroline can tell by the set of the girl's shoulders that she was upset.

"Am I like that?" Hope asks quietly. They'd been driving silently for almost 10 minutes, Caroline not entirely sure what to say but was still visibly fuming at Klaus for fleeing the situation. "Am I autistic?" Oh yes, Caroline was going to kill him.

"Hope," Caroline levels, "you're the most self confident person I've ever met. You make your father look like a withering flower. Do you honestly care if you're autistic or not?"

Hope puzzles over the question for a moment, "I suppose not. I like who I am, and considering I have to live with myself forever that's the only viable option."

"That's all that matters then," she cuts the ignition when they pull into the garage. "I love you, your father loves you even though he and your aunts and uncles suck at showing it sometimes, and your sisters love you. And Haley, she loves you too," Caroline admits. "And not a single one of us cares whether you're autistic or not. I mean, your father is a thousand year old psycho killer and most of us love him despite that, so you're in good company." Hope cracks a grin at that and gives Caroline a kiss on the cheek. Caroline can hear Klaus throwing things around upstairs.

"Go make some tea, I'm going to go rip your father a new one," Caroline hands Hope her purse. Hope bites her lip and nods, standing in Caroline's wake.

She takes her time climbing the stairs, hoping that every footstep sounds like the executioner coming to the block. God, she could kill him. He'd been thoughtless before, or, well, often, but this was a new low. He was much better at speaking and then thinking which had resulted in many a headache for her. He's still rattling about in their room and she pauses for a minute before flinging open the door.

"What the hell was that, Klaus? You think she can't be autistic because she's a hybrid? Or is it because she's your daughter?" Slamming the door behind her, she holds up a hand when he tries to speak. "You're acting like a child, Klaus, throwing a tantrum just because your own child isn't what you'd like her to be and I can't even begin to…" he cuts her off, already shouting.

"Fine, Caroline. She's autistic. She's got terrible communication skills, compulsive tendencies, and no understanding of human emotion and if those qualities make her autistic, so be it. But what does that change?" His voice drops when he hears the kettle whistle downstairs, a sure sign that his daughter could hear their argument. "Which of those things make her incapable of being treated like anyone else? Because she's also incredibly perceptive and unflinchingly honest; she's thoughtful and curious, and intelligent." His steam runs out toward the end of his argument, his pacing ceases and he sits on the edge of their bed, suddenly looking tired.

"She'll be treated differently because she doesn't see the world in the way that any of those morons want her to. Is this what parenthood is like," he looks up at her, his face somewhere between angry and lost, "debating what you think is best for your child with the anyone who thinks they have a qualified opinion?"

"Apparently," Caroline murmurs, dropping to sit on her shins and resting her cheek on his knees. "Sorry I yelled at you, I thought you were having superiority complex issues again."

"Not exactly unwarranted," he curls a piece of her hair around a finger and lets her play with the fingers on his other hand.

"I don't get it," she hums.

"Don't get what, love?"

"You're unexpectedly progressive sometimes, and then it's like you're in the dark ages. I totally thought you were angry about her being...you know," she's already tired of using the word and bringing on the implications it has.

"Caroline," he looks at her like she's grown two heads, "I'm a thousand year old vampire werewolf hybrid. Did you really think the word autistic scared me?"

* * *

Caroline takes the Josie and Lizzy on a trip after Alaric's funeral. She doubts the house will still be standing by the time she gets back so she calls Freya. Leaving Klaus and Hope with his older sister makes her feel a little better. It wasn't that she didn't trust him to run the house, he'd certainly been doing the forever, it was that he often turned a blind eye to Hope's actions.

Like the time she'd planted greens all over the rooftop because she'd read that it would help with global warming. Or the time when she had to climb into the walls of the house because she'd just finished _House of Leaves_ and it was apparently plausible enough for her to check. Klaus had accused Caroline of "censoring" Hope's creativity, pleased as punch when Napoleon's battle plans scattered the dining room table.

It was nice that the two were thick as thieves, but it proved to be a constant worry for her. She's determined not to worry for the next few days though, and Freya is more than happy to visit her brother and niece.

She doesn't want to take the twins out of the country, they're only off of school for 4 days, so Klaus recommends Savannah. It's on the water, he points out, and there's enough going on that the beach isn't the only thing they'd have to do. He's right, of course, it's the perfect choice.

"So," Josie asks one morning when the three are sprawled out on the beach, "are you and Klaus ever going to, I don't know, get married or something?"

"At least exchange promise rings," Lizzie nods.

Caroline splutters for a moment, "why is Klaus and I getting married suddenly on the top of your asking list?"

"Just curious," Lizzie says brightly.

"Isn't that what people do when they're madly in love or whatever?"

"Things are different when you're like us, I don't think...wait, did you really say promise rings?" Caroline pulls her sunglasses down. Promise rings? Klaus, who had played a significant enough role in raising them that they should know better than to ask a question like that, and her exchanging promise rings?

"Well, I don't know," Lizzy huffs, "that was just what they did in Romeo and Juliet." Caroline suddenly understood Klaus' intense hatred for that particular play being taught in school.


End file.
